Final Night
by Siriuslyfun19212
Summary: I knew in that moment that everything had changed. He had come home from Bella’s earlier to clear his mind, and now he had left again. He had left not to hunt, but to return to Bella. To return to her for one last night.


Author Notes: This was entirely written in various states out west and finished at 1:45 am in Arkansas on June 29th, 2007. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, grammatically, spelling, or otherwise. This was first written on paper, and when I type things up, I have a tendency to just type while I stare at the notebook for the words needed. I've gone through this and edited it-- and trust me, there was a _lot_ I fixed-- but, please, be kind if you find anything wrong.  
And also-- the title and the final words of the story are not to be confused. The meaning of this title was not meant to emphasize Edward going back to Bella's, but to emphasize that this is the final night (in his mind) before he leaves.

This entire story takes place in the wee am hours of the morning (before school) before the Cullens leave Forks.

And also, although this story was not inspired by the song, if you listen to this song repeatedly while reading this story, I'm pretty sure you'll get very teary-eyed. : ) I think the song goes very well with the story. The song is "Here With Me" by Dido. A link to the song will be on my Fanfiction Directory (link in profile). I listened to it while I was writing, and I think it was quite a mood-setter.

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Final Night

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_Everything you want in life has a price connected to it. **There's a price to pay if you want to make things better**, a price to pay just for leaving things as they are, a price for everything._

- Harry Browne

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I paused briefly at the staircase, unsure if I should really invade him when he was so vulnerable. I couldn't catch myself from hoping that my brother, whom I care so deeply for, would be sick, or in some other way ailed—perhaps, if he was, it would be easier to convince him of otherwise.

I tramped up the stairs, nervously, gracefully. I paused before knocking, but my open thoughts prompted him before I could even lift my hands from my pockets, where they had been wringing in a cement-like anticipation.

"It's no use, Alice," I heard his voice mutter quietly. If I were human, I would not have heard him. I entered, anyway.

I could smell it. It was so strong, so overwhelming—I felt helpless within the raw stench. It began to draw me under, capturing me in its retching deduction. Never before did I believe sour emotions could bring on such an elicit scent. It was unreal. Depression, guilt, pity, and regret floated aimlessly passed the threshold of Edward's room.

Edward absolutely wreaked of it. I suppose it was reasonable, to be expected. After all, the smells _were_ coming from him. I wondered vaguely if even Jasper could control this mess.

I began to hold my breath.

"This isn't healthy, "I stated matter-of-factly.

His still form, as it lay in a darkened corner by the glass wall, looked utterly helpless. My heart went out to him.

The next words he spoke, despair dripping pitifully from them, were, "I know."

No surprise there.

I steadily went to his side, moving no more than three inches in each separate pace. I dropped down to his level on the floor. "Edward, please—please," I begged. Every ounce of compassion I contained rained on him in the moments I was in his room. I had to change his mind. I absolutely had to.

His eyes didn't even shift to look at me.

"Please," I repeated. "We don't have to do this."

"We do," he contradicted. "We do." The second time seemed more like an assurance to himself than to me. The quietness of his voice was so low I had to struggle to hear his saddened whisper. I knew he was still trying to convince himself that leaving was for the better. My Jasper, my beautiful, warm-hearted, utterly terrifying Jasper lost control in one feeble slash of wrapping paper. Even with his heightened lack of self-containment, he rarely lost his control concerning humans like that. I did not, _could not_, blame him. He, Jasper, did.

"Edward," I breathed. "Think of what you'll be leaving."

He was up in a whirl wind of white skin and bronze hair. "You think I haven't thought of that, already?!" he bellowed.

I blinked, shocked.

"You think the very thought of leaving has not plagued the very core of my soul? My being? You think it isn't ripping me up now as I speak? You think I WANT to leave?" he was in my face, spilling himself out to me as if saying these words could revoke the awful truth behind his intentions. Before any human heart could even _think_ of beating, he was at the glass wall that the entire backside of the house had. He punched the center of the window-like structure with such abrupt force, such power, that the entire house shook. Instantly, thousands upon thousands of cracks formed over the delicate wall. The two of us shared a single moment, our eyes locked on the glass. Very light reflections showed on the cracked, viscous material, powered by the moon as it peaked passed the thick blanket of clouds. Tears could have very easily formed in my eyes, had I the ability, as I saw Edward's torn figure and face spread across the wasted glass. Then, in one, swift movement, the shards crumpled despairingly onto the grassy land below.

He turned to me, seemingly unperturbed that he'd just broken a fraction of his room.

"I don't want to go," he whispered, his voice very small. I went to his side in one fluid movement and gave him a hug, the strongest I could muster.

"Then don't," I whispered back.

"It isn't that easy." His heavy voice came back. He laughed harshly, humorlessly. He showed me his knuckles.

"You see that, Alice?" he asked.

"Your fist? Yes?"

"Exactly," he breathed. His voice had taken such a sharp edge to his tone—I was shocked.

He jerked his fist down and walked to his now-empty wall frame. "That's all you see. I just _broke a wall_, and there's no _damage_ at _all_ to me." He laughed again. "She doesn't need that."

"She doesn't need what? Perfection?" I tried. "Edward, she _loves_ you. You can't _do_ this to her!"

"I can't _not_ do this," he countered.

"Edward, please," I repeated. That seemed to be the mantra of the night. "Edward, it was just an accident, a one-time occurrence—"

"Are you _kidding_ me?!" he shouted in disbelieve. "Where have you _been_ the past year?"

"I've been wherever you are," I answered back coolly. "I've seen what you've seen."

"Then you'll understand why we have to leave."

"No!" I shouted back. "We don't _have_ to leave!"

"Alice," he closed his eyes and began to rub his temples. "Please don't be difficult. I can't keep doing this to her. Sooner or later, I'm not going to get there in time—she is not going to make it." His voice cracked on the last part, just a little bit. "I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen."

"We won't let that happen," I soothed, but I couldn't be so sure. I only hoped it was true. I really, really did.

He tossed his head back and laughed harshly. He did that often, it seemed. "You don't know that."

True. "You're right," I admitted," But shell be a lot safer if she has a group of vampires with her."

I looked at me as if I were a very incompetent child. "Do you hear yourself when you speak? Or do these words just come from some unknown source that you can't control?"

"We can protect her."

He was silent for a moment; I felt as if I'd won.

But Edward, stubborn as ever, said, "It's better to do it now. Easier. A cleaner break."

I stood still, appalled by his word. "Easier for _who_? You or her?"

"Both."

"How so?"

He turned to me and looked me in the eyes. A pained expression dominated his beautiful features. He plied sadly, "She's barely eighteen years old. She has so much more to live—"

"She could live a lot more if you'd just turn her!"  
"That is not an option!" he bellowed. "Being a human and being a vampire are two completely different things!"

"Thank you for updating me on my detrimental lack of common knowledge," I retorted icily.

"I don't want her to go through life worrying about resisting herself—I don't want her to have to give up everything before she even knows what everything is—"

"To her, _you_ are everything."

"I am nothing."

"Let her be the judge of that."

He closed his eyes to think for a moment. He began to barely rub his temples. Abruptly, his eyes snapped open.

"I want her to be able to run through Italy without having to worry about her skin; I want her to be able to have human friends over and not have to worry about killing them; I want her to be able to see her parents whenever she wants. I want her to appreciate life because she knows it won't be there forever; I want her to be able to," his voiced cracked once more, "drink champagne instead of blood at her wedding."

I stepped up to him and grasped his hand affectionately. "All of that," I spoke quietly, slowly, "means _nothing_ to her. It's her decision to make."

"I will not condone that. I won't do that to her," he snarled. He ripped his hands from mine and stormed to the wall's opening. Graceful as ever, he folded his legs and fell to the floor. He pushed his legs out over the side and put his face in his hands. I followed him.

"Alright, so she stays human," for now. "That doesn't explain why we have to leave."

"S'too dangerous, " he mumbled.

"So Jasper lost control. It's been years since he last did that. You were there when James attacked her. He was in the room for nearly a minute. You can't tell me that's not improvement!"

"It's improvement, you're right," he muttered.

I grinned triumphantly.

"But it was only one of the many accidents that will happen."

I threw my hands up in the air. "You're impossible!" I shrieked.

He glared at me ruefully.

He paused again to consider his thoughts. The word he then said, quiet and difficult, sounded as if it killed Edward to them.

"In eighty or so years, she will die," his voice broke. "As she should. It's going to take that long for me to even make a centimeter of progress."

"What progress?" I asked, confused.

"Getting over her."

It was an impossible idea. "You'll never get over her."

His eyes fell on me, strained and broken. "I know."

"Then why bother?" I asked balefully. I love my brother with every bit of my soul, but he was being difficult. I knew that if he left, the rest of eternity would be a morbid, lifeless pit of nothing. I couldn't let him do that to himself.  
"Because she _will_ get over me."

I scoffed at even the tiniest notion of that. "No, she won't!" I screamed. I know that for fact. Bella would remain just as heartbroken as Edward would. I knew it. "She will be _lost_ without you. _You. Are. Her. Life._"

"I shouldn't be."

"Well, you are. Sorry to burst your perfectly-constructed bubble of misapprehensions." I crossed my arms.

He threw me an angry glare, before standing quickly and walking sullenly to the other side of his room. I followed suit. "You don't know what you're talking about." He didn't look at me.

"You're confused," I told his back.

"I'm not confused, you're delusional."

I chuckled harshly. "How can I be delusional?" I tapped my head.

For a moment, he seemed confused as to what he should say next. He looked at my head hopefully. I could already guess what he was going to say.

I started ticking off what I had seen. "She will lose all concept of time; her thoughts and actions will revolve around routine; she won't even talk—"

"Well, at least she'll be alive," he said emotionlessly. "And don't look at her future."

Someone has to. "Well, what a life that will be!" I snorted sardonically, ignoring the second part.

"It'll be a life," he muttered. I don't think he intended me to hear him.

"What if she gets hurt while we're gone? What if you could have stopped it?"

He was momentarily silent. "That won't happen."

I snorted again. "Yeah, you're right, because _you_'re psychic."

He sent me a thick, despicable glare.

I dropped my sarcasm. "Edward, place," again with the mantra. "Edward—please, reconsider."

"No. It's done."

"No, it's _not_ done!" I said, aggravated and exasperated. "I _get_ this, Edward, I _get_ it. You're worried about her! But listen to me! You love each other! You _need_ each other!"

Stonily, he retorted, "Love doesn't mean much without life."

"And life doesn't mean must without love!"

He looked away. Almost indistinctly, he told me, "I couldn't live I was the reason she died, Alice. I've got to keep her safe. Alive."

"I know, Edward, I know," I said comfortingly. "But you can protect her more if you stay."

We stood in the silence for a moment. I could only hope he was thinking about my words. Considering them.

I was only too surprised when he swung around and flung himself out of the hole in the wall. He landed silently, feet first on the ground below—cat-like. As I looked down at him, his precious eyes glowed with a deep-set, passionate solemnity.

"Alice, please don't try and convince me of otherwise. The deal is done. We leave tomorrow." His tone was business-like.

I gaped at him. "Edward…"

"No," he snapped. "Alice, no. Please." His eyes were pleading.

I was silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Now, I'm going to hunt one last time in Forks. I'll be back in a few hours for school." His tone was business-like, again, but his last words held an extra tone of both menace and, especially this, warning. "And Alice—say what you need to to her at school tomorrow. You won't be seeing her afterwards." I choked back dry sobs at the mere concept of leaving. It killed me inside.

I tried to say something, a few last words of begging—but he was already gone.

I knew in that moment that everything had changed. He had come home from Bella's earlier to clear his mind, and now he had left again. He had left not to hunt, but to return to Bella. To return to her for one last night.


End file.
